


Silence

by wallofglass



Category: Withnail & I (1986)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 21:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15446427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallofglass/pseuds/wallofglass
Summary: Withnail has had throat surgery, Marwood is there.





	Silence

‘Your voice— your beautiful voice- oh Withnail,’ Marwood kissed the hollow of Withnail’s shoulder blade, the slope of his neck, the thin sheet of skin that covered his torn out throat. When he pulled away Withnail looked up at him, aloof, sad, self-pitying. Marwood laid his head down on Withnail’s chest, listening to his improbably beating heart. For a long moment they stayed there, Marwood breathing shakily, until Withnail’s long fingers wound their way into his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck, moving his head to a more comfortable position, then petting him, stroking his hair. Marwood sighed softly, relaxing into Withnail’s touch. 

***

In the end it was easier, without the threat of words, to give himself to Withnail. To let Withnail undress him, touch him, open him up. Marwood whimpered, moaned for them both, translating the empty panting against his neck into words of adoration in his head. When Withnail was tired Marwood got down on his knees for him, working him with his mouth and hands. When Withnail was inside him the blood pounded so heavily in his ears that the silence didn’t matter.

**

It took Marwood some time to realise that Withnail needed practical help. Despite the haughty look, the grand setting of the finally-inherited family home, Withnail was a sick man, suffering and in pain, too proud to ask for help, but not unwilling to demand it, especially from the man he had always demanded too much from. Marwood bent down to help Withnail up. He had always been thin, but now Marwood’s hands fitted almost round his body, fingers slotting between his ribs. Marwood blinked back a sudden film of tears and wrapped his arm around Withnail’s waist.

***

Withnail used his fragility to intrude on Marwood’s personal space. Their bones jostled, sharp hips digging into Marwood’s soft thighs, bruising darker every night. When Withnail was gone, Marwood knew he would hoard the memory of that, the raw, visceral secrecy of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Some self-indulgent completely uncontextualised nonsense for my first proper Withnail & I fic.


End file.
